


Speech to Beg

by rainydayrambling



Category: Captive Prince - C. S. Pacat
Genre: Bottom Damen (Captive Prince), Canon Compliant, Dirty Talk, Explicit Sexual Content, M/M, Plot What Plot/Porn Without Plot, Porn with Feelings, Post-Kings Rising, Top Laurent (Captive Prince)
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-10-13
Updated: 2020-10-13
Packaged: 2021-03-07 23:46:57
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 8,955
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/26996128
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/rainydayrambling/pseuds/rainydayrambling
Summary: Ever since that day at the inn, Damen has thought about what it would be like to let Laurent inside him.  He wonders what Laurent feels when they're together.  Now, finally, one night on the road together, he gets to find out.
Relationships: Damen/Laurent (Captive Prince)
Comments: 27
Kudos: 162





	Speech to Beg

**Author's Note:**

> Can I offer you some porn in this trying time?

They talked about it sometimes, but always in the way of that first time, either while Damen was fucking Laurent into the mattress in Ios, or shortly afterward, when they were warm and pliant and cuddled close together. Sometimes Laurent brought it up, either teasing and sweet, whispered into Damen's ear, or rough and hot as he dug his nails into Damen's chest and rode his cock. Sometimes Damen mentioned it himself, his curiosity leaking from him in tender moments when the look on Laurent's face was one of such unbridled pleasure that Damen desperately wanted to know what this felt like for him.

It had been months since the official joining of their two kingdoms. They spent much of that time together in Ios, though for twelve miserable weeks in the middle, Laurent had gone back to Arles for his coronation and to attend to several state affairs that could only be dealt with at that end of the empire.

Damen thought about it a lot while Laurent was gone, what it might be like to feel Laurent inside him, moving and taking from Damen what he himself always gave so willingly. It made him shiver just to think about it, and a couple of times he even touched himself there, where Laurent would enter him, though he never pressed inside. He told himself it was because the act itself had no particular appeal to him -- that it was only sharing it with Laurent that mattered -- but the longer it went on, the more he came to realize that the truth was something else.

It had become a sort of game, the likes of which Laurent himself would have been proud, if Damen were ever to mention it to him. When he found himself alone, every once in a while, instead of imagining himself sinking into Laurent from above, or picturing Laurent bracing himself against Damen's chest as he set a brutal pace bouncing in his lap, he would instead close his eyes and imagine Laurent crouched between his legs. And he would touch his fingers to that hidden place and just lightly rest them there, or gently brush against it, shivering even at the idea of being breached there.

And then he would stop himself, before he did it. Some part of him, it seemed, very much liked the idea of Laurent being the first to touch him there, inside, even before Damen himself.

For a long time, he didn't share these fantasies with Laurent. Until one night, shortly after their reunion from Laurent's trip home to Arles, when Laurent had been on his knees in front of him. Damen's back was pressed up against the wall, like the first time, and he felt such tender vulnerability as the warm wet of Laurent's mouth enveloped him. Damen had missed him so much, and before he knew it, he was babbling about exactly that: how he had missed Laurent, and what he had done and thought about while they had been apart.

Laurent had finished him off like that, but when he stood up, wiping the back of his hand over his mouth, there was a serious, almost somber, look on his face. He regarded Damen closely, but he didn't speak. And he never did speak about it for the rest of that night, or the rest of that week, but Damen knew that he was thinking about it.

He had, perhaps, some reservations about the idea, but he was thinking about it. What those reservations were, Damen didn't know. He decided it would be best to let Laurent consider it on his own, to think through whatever he needed to think through until he reached his own conclusion. He didn't tell Damen what he was thinking, exactly, but he brought it up more often after that.

That had been several weeks ago now. In Laurent's slow-moving way, nothing had happened yet. It was slowly driving Damen crazy, thinking about it. He had even begun to dream about it, waking sweat-soaked and hard from the thought of Laurent inside him. It never failed to make his face flame when he woke and realized what he'd been dreaming about, and the effect it had on him. Still, Laurent made no move, and Damen felt it was right to leave it up to him.

But now they were on the road together, heading from Ios to Delpha with only a small contingent for a series of games and some political maneuvering that probably didn't require both of them, but which would certainly benefit from their combined presence.

For the first few nights of travel, they had stayed at inns. Tonight, they were far enough into the wilderness that their small retinue had needed to make due with tents, and somehow Damen and Laurent both seemed to know that this was the night. Something about it just felt right, to be in a place that was neutral to them both, reminiscent of the time between them when everything had first begun to take shape. Not the cleanliest option, perhaps, or the most comfortable, but they had the royal tent to themselves, and by this point, it hardly mattered to either of them what their personal guards thought of their closed-door activities.

That was how, without much in the way of formal discussion, they found themselves together in the golden glow of lantern light in the royal tent, Damen lying back against the blankets and furs meant to protect them from the chill outside, and Laurent kneeling over him, leaning close.

The expression on his face was as serious as Damen had ever seen it -- a small crease in his brow, a tightness to his mouth that would once have looked mean to Damen, but which he now recognized as the mark of a sense of responsibility. It was endearing, downright sweet, and Damen almost laughed at himself for ever thinking that Laurent's veneer of icy hardness could be all there was to him, rather than the outermost layer which was all that most of the world ever got to see.

"You're sure you want to try this?" Laurent asked him. His eyes were steady on Damen's face, as though looking for any hint of trepidation.

Damen didn't think he would find any there. Not that he wasn't nervous. Surprisingly, and despite himself, he did feel rather nervous. But the months of imagining this had done their work on him, and despite his nerves, there was no part of him left that doubted whether he really wanted it.

"Yes," he said.

Laurent nodded, accepting this answer, taking him at his word and trusting him to know what he wanted and present it clearly. Damen felt the old tenderness and affection, taken root in his chest so long ago, tug at his heart, turning his chest warm.

"Is there anything you want to know first?" Laurent asked. It seemed he was taking seriously the fact that in this, at least, he had more experience than Damen.

It hadn't occurred to Damen that he would ask such a thing, but it pleased him, and he smiled. He thought about it for a moment, but only one question presented itself. He felt almost foolish asking, but if Laurent was giving him the space to seek reassurance, he didn't see any reason why he shouldn't take it.

"Will it hurt?" he asked. The question didn't sound nervous or afraid to his own ears, merely curious.

But the serious expression didn't leave Laurent's face as he nodded. "A little," he said. "It always does. That's part of it." His voice was pitched low, which was the only sign that the idea of doing this was affecting him at all. For Damen's part, his cock was already stirring against his hip, purely from the idea of it.

Laurent didn't ask him if the thought of pain turned him off from the idea, but he did say, "You know you can stop me if you change your mind."

"Even in the middle?" Damen said.

It was meant to be a joke, a tease, but Laurent nodded again, in that same somber way. And then he said, "Are you ready?" and Damen's breath dragged in his lungs as he realized that this was finally going to happen. No longer just a fantasy, they were about to do something entirely new for both of them. The nerves flared -- it had been a long time since Damen had been new to something in the bedroom -- but so did his arousal. He thought the sudden hardness of his cock must be answer enough, but Laurent didn't move until Damen said aloud that he was ready.

And then Laurent was leaning over him for the vial of oil. He took off his jacket and tossed it to the ground, but otherwise he remained clothed. Damen was already naked, as it was easy enough to get out of a chiton.

With all of the perfunctory talk out of the way, Damen thought Laurent would lighten up, return to the sweetly pliant lover Damen had come to know him to be, but he maintained his serious composure as he sat back and tipped the first spill of oil over his fingers. It gave him an air of authority he didn't often use with Damen in this context, and something about it set Damen to a lazy, molten heat inside.

"Spread your legs," Laurent said. Damen did so, but then Laurent said, "Wider," and the heat in his belly seemed to ripple with the first degree of active desire. "Good," Laurent said when Damen had spread his legs enough to satisfy him, and the praise, coming from Laurent, did things to him that it never did coming from anyone else. Even in bed, when previous lovers had complimented him, or expressed that he had done well, it pleased him and stroked his ego, but it didn't fill him with the need to do anything that was asked of him, which was exactly how he felt now. And Laurent hadn't even touched him yet.

He swallowed. Perhaps, in all his excitement, he had lost track of just how new this really was.

The first touch of Laurent's fingers, slick and warm with oil, to that most private part of him made Damen gasp. It startled him, just how strange -- but also good -- it felt. Different from his own fingers, partly by nature of the oil, which Damen had never used to touch himself there. Partly by nature of not knowing what would come next.

It was abundantly apparent that it was a sensitive place, and despite the raw vulnerability of being touched there by another person, there was no denying the effect of the sensation. For several moments, Laurent merely touched him without pushing any further, rubbing the tips of two fingers against him at a slow, steady pace.

It occurred to Damen that maybe Laurent was nervous, unsure whether he was doing well, so Damen said, "That's good," to encourage him. But Laurent only hummed noncommittally, as though saying that he knew this already. It struck Damen then that this was not just going to be different because their roles were physically reversed from their usual, but because Laurent himself was different. This was not just their usual dynamic, turned at an angle. This was their dynamic, flipped. Laurent didn't need from Damen what he usually needed.

Realizing this left Damen feeling somewhat unmoored. He hadn't been prepared to take on a more submissive role, he realized. He wanted Laurent to fuck him, wanted it badly, but he had still thought he would be the one to take charge, to guide things.

Laurent, it seemed, had other ideas. And something about that turned the easy, rolling waves of heat in him to a blazing flame, more anxious, more unsure than he had been before. Laurent noticed the change, the increase in tension that Damen felt, though Damen himself wouldn't have said it was a bad feeling, only unexpected. In fact, he found himself reveling in it, the unknown of it all.

"Relax," Laurent said. Not harshly, but not gently either. There was a hardness in him that wasn't cold, but which was intractable. Whatever the tone, Damen found it easy to obey, or at least easy to try. His difficulty must have shown on his face, which Laurent was still watching carefully, because after a few seconds during which Damen tried his best to relax the muscles which had once more begun to tense up beneath Laurent's touch, Laurent added, "Don't focus so much on this." He punctuated the words with a slight increased in pressure from his fingers. "Just try to relax the rest of your body."

Damen drew in a deep breath and focused on trying to relax his shoulders, his back, down to his hips and thighs, the way he might before taking up a sword in the training arena. Slowly, the tension which had begun to amp up in him again began to recede. Laurent waited, watching, and then, when Damen had apparently relaxed enough, he said, "That's good," in that same low, authoritative tone, which set Damen to melting the rest of the way into relaxation, or as close an approximation as he was likely to reach, given the circumstances.

Laurent's fingers were still moving at their steady pace, sliding over Damen, radiating the strange pleasure up through him from the point of contact, loosening him without ever pressing inside. The longer this went on, the more the heat between Damen's legs intensified, though it was a slow sort of burning, nothing like the feeling of Laurent's hands on his cock. He could feel, in a distant sort of way, that the tension in the muscle beneath Laurent's attention was diminishing, that he was loosening under the light pressure and the pleasant sensation. Laurent seemed content to let this go on for a long while, and it wasn't until Damen was accustomed to the feel of it, until he began rocking his hips to increase the pressure, that Laurent finally spoke again.

Damen opened his eyes to watch him and saw that his chest was moving with tight little breaths, and color had spread over the tops of his cheeks, the only signs that he was affected by this, from what Damen could see of him. Still, it was reassuring to see that Damen wasn't alone in his pleasure.

"Damen," Laurent said, and Damen met his eyes. He realized as he did so that his own face must be flushed, and that at some point, his lips had parted, and his breathing was coming harsher. "You're going to let me inside now," Laurent said. It was not presented as a question, but a statement of inarguable fact. Not because Laurent would force it, but because there could be no question now that Damen wanted it.

All he could do was nod, spread his legs a little further apart, the best he could manage by way of invitation. Laurent's own lips parted at the sight, but otherwise, he held onto his strict composure. And then, down between his legs, Damen felt the first press of one finger just past the relaxed ring of muscle and into his body.

At some point during their more recent discussions, Damen had let it slip that nothing had ever been inside him, not even his own fingers. The sensation was foreign and strange and deeply vulnerable. Not entirely pleasant at first, not in the way Laurent's fingers against the outside of him had been. He felt his brow furrow as he concentrated on not tensing up again, but Laurent didn't seem as concerned with that.

He laid his free hand against Damen's body, low on his belly, just above where his cock was beginning to flag a little at the intrusion. Otherwise, Laurent paused there, his first finger in only to the first knuckle, if Damen had to guess. As they waited with one another, Damen was able to separate the physical feeling of discomfort from the emotional, and to his surprise, he found that most of what he felt was the latter.

He hadn't anticipated that. After all, he felt no judgment toward anyone else who enjoyed this sort of thing. It would have been awfully hypocritical of him if he had. So why then was he struggling so much with it? With allowing it?

Where his hand was gently pressed to Damen's body, Laurent brushed his thumb in soothing strokes back and forth over the soft skin there. "It's all right," he said.

Damen closed his eyes and just focused on the comforting, familiar cadence of Laurent's voice.

"It's all right," he said again, "to take a moment. It's all right to want this."

Damen suspected that this was something Laurent had spent some time trying to convince himself in the past. The words had their own sense of familiarity to them, though Damen had never heard Laurent express this sentiment outright before.

In any case, the words had their intended affect, as did the fact that for all the steadiness of Laurent's voice, when Damen opened his eyes again, it was to see Laurent staring down at him with absolutely rapt, stunned attention. It seemed he was not the only one surprised by his own reaction to this new territory they were discovering together.

Finally, Damen nodded, and Laurent, again, took him at his word that he was ready. As he pressed his finger deeper inside, the stretch was so minimal, and Damen so relaxed from Laurent's earlier attentions, that there was no pain to it at all, which surprised him. Again, the strangeness of it didn't exactly feel pleasurable either, but before he could feel one way or another about that, Laurent crooked his finger just so, as though he knew exactly what he was looking for and where to find it, and a pulse of decidedly pleasurable warmth rolled through him from the place inside which Laurent had just brushed against.

He heard more than felt the breath which he sucked into his lungs in response, distracted as he was by what Laurent had just done. He was familiar with this, of course, but the actual feeling of it was different from what he had imagined. Less dramatic, less focused, less extreme than he had thought, but what it lacked in decisiveness, it made up in diffuse pleasure which quickly began to build as Laurent started to rock his finger gently in and out of Damen's body, always taking care to brush against that inner place on every stroke. He slipped a second finger in beside the first not long after, and once more, the stretch was minimal enough that Damen didn't feel any pain.

After that, Laurent waited until Damen began moving on his own again, chasing the building feeling, before he stilled him with the hand still resting on his belly, applying just enough pressure to communicate what he wanted Damen to do.

Damen bit his lip in his effort to still his hips, which had grown difficult at some point, but he did stop. His eyes opened -- he hadn't even realized he'd closed them again -- to find Laurent watching him intently.

"You're ready for more," Laurent said, again telling him that it was true more than asking him.

And again, all Damen could do was agree. So far it hadn't been so bad, just a little strange. "You don't have to go so slow," he said, surprised by how breathy his voice sounded. "You won't break me." Perhaps it was a bid for more comfortable ground beneath them, but despite the confidence Damen tried to project, Laurent shook his head in response.

"Maybe not," he agreed, his voice pitched low. Damen suspected he was the only one who had ever heard Laurent talk quite like this. "But I want you to enjoy this." He kept his eyes on Damen's face as he spoke, and Damen couldn't look away from the hard heat he found there. "I want you to think about this for a long time. For the rest of your life, I want you to be able to remember what it felt like to have me inside you. I want it to make you hot every time it comes back to you in the middle of a council meeting. When you're alone in bed while I'm away, I want you to fuck yourself with your fingers and think of this." He pressed his own fingers hard against the place inside Damen which he had slowly been coaxing, and Damen gasped at the sudden sharpness of it, the pulse of pleasure so intense that it was almost painful.

As for Laurent's words, they affected him more than he would have liked to admit, turning him into a churning mass of heat and desire and little else. But Laurent didn't stop. It was as though now that he had begun talking, he couldn't rein himself in again.

"When I do finally give you my cock, I want you so loose and open that there can be no doubt in your mind how badly you want it. You won't have to speak to beg; your hole will do it for you, swallowing anything I give it."

" _Laurent_ ," Damen gasped, unsure whether he was trying to censure Laurent for his language, or egg him on.

Either way, Laurent kept talking, all the while his fingers fucking into Damen, already making good on his promises.

"I want you to love every second of it," Laurent said. "Even the parts that hurt."

 _Maybe especially the parts that hurt_ , Damen thought but didn't say. Language seemed to be more or less beyond him at this point anyway.

"I want --" Laurent began again, but he quickly broke off.

Damen opened his eyes to look at Laurent's face, worried suddenly that he had gone too far and upset himself somehow -- something that happened sometimes, tinged with horrible memories as sex was for him -- but Laurent didn't stop the movement of his fingers, and whatever he had been about to say simply slipped away, and the moment passed. Perhaps he had merely become overwhelmed, because a second later, he had moved on.

Damen felt the tease of a third finger around the rim of his hole, which was even more sensitive now than it had been when they started. He didn't wait for Laurent's assessment of whether or not he was ready. "Yes," he gasped out, "do it."

But Laurent didn't press the third finger in beside his others. He waited until Damen met his eyes, and then with an impressive show of his old insouciance, he raised one eyebrow and said, "Yes? Would you like something?"

Damen threw his head back against the hard camp pillows and groaned, at least as much from exasperation as from the pleasure Laurent was inflicting on him. "I thought you said you weren't going to make me beg," he said.

Laurent tipped his head and pretended to think back. "I don't believe I said any such thing," he said. "I believe I said you wouldn't need to, that your body would do it for you. That doesn't mean I don't want to hear it. In fact," he said, and then leaned down over Damen to lick once at the head of his cock, which had begun to leak from the internal stimulation. Damen arched and a cry was wrenched from his throat at the wet touch of tongue to his cock, almost oversensitive already from the work of Laurent's fingers. "I don't imagine there's anything I would like better," Laurent finished.

Damen cursed Laurent's ability to sound so calmly unaffected at all times, and cursed his desires to squeeze more complicated pleasures out of Damen than Damen himself was naturally inclined toward. But there was no denying, at least to himself, that the idea that Laurent was forcing him to beg for another finger in his ass was broiling a righteous sort of anger in Damen's chest, which was nevertheless tinged with eroticism. The fact was, Laurent wanted him to beg for it, and Damen wanted to do what Laurent asked of him. And, even more than that, he wanted what Laurent was offering.

Laurent had stopped moving his fingers, but now he pressed the pads of them once more to that spot inside, and Damen groaned again.

"Yes," he choked out. " _Please_."

"Please?" Laurent asked.

Of course Laurent would choose this moment to torture him. Of course he would. Though no doubt if Damen had pointed this out, Laurent would have been quick to note that Damen wasn't above his own torture in moments like these, so Damen bit down on it and instead tried to give Laurent what he wanted.

"Please, Laurent, give me more. I want it. I want -- what you said." As though to reward him for trying, Laurent had started up the motion of his fingers again, and Damen stuttered as he tried to focus through it. "I want to remember this. I want to feel anything you want to give me."

He surprised himself with the earnestness of the words, and as he spoke, emotion welled up in him, in his chest, just as pleasure welled between his hips. He shut his eyes tight, feeling a little foolish, but Laurent reached up to his face with his free hand and brushed his cheek with the pad of his thumb. Then, as he finally began to press his third finger in along the others, he leaned down over Damen and kissed him for the first time since all of this had started.

Damen's lips parted at the stretch and the kiss. For the first time, the sense of intrusion was accompanied by a measure of pain as his body tried to accommodate the increase in pressure. His hands moved of their own accord to cling to Laurent's shoulders, and he poured himself desperately into the kiss.

Here was another thing he hadn't thought to consider: the extreme vulnerability of experiencing this strange sensation -- all new and pleasurable and painful at once -- for the first time with the person in the world he cared more for than anything else. Laurent's mouth was hot and wet against his, and they were both breathing hard now. It was clear that Laurent loved this, maybe more than he'd thought he would, having Damen under him, in his power in a way that had nothing to do with size or strength or any sort of incapacitation. In that moment, Damen was physically capable of anything he always was, but emotionally he was malleable as clay in Laurent's hands, and they both knew it.

The stretch around Laurent's fingers now was a burning kind of ache, and part of Damen's body itched to get away from it. And he could have, easily. For one thing, if he'd said the word, Laurent would have set his own pleasure, his own desire, aside in an instant, Damen knew. He would have withdrawn, sat back, and done whatever Damen had needed of him. Beyond that, there was of course the matter of his own strength. Even if it had been someone Damen trusted less than Laurent, he could easily have thrown anyone off of him and gotten away.

But despite the pain, and despite the discomfort twisting in his gut at the strange vulnerability of it all, Damen didn't actually want to get away. What he wanted was exactly what Laurent had promised him, to feel him so deeply inside that he could conjure the memory of it for the rest of his life. Even if they never did this again, he wanted to know that feeling, he wanted it so badly that when tears finally pricked at his eyes, he couldn't stop them, but instead could only turn his face away.

Laurent quickly braced his hand on Damen's chin, his jaw, turning him to face him once more. "Damen," he said, his tone once more stern. "Look at me."

Damen forced his eyes to open, and with a feeling that had the flavor of shame but was nevertheless colored by desire, he felt two tears fall down his face. He swallowed against the rising tide of emotion that was cresting. It overwhelmed him, the love and tenderness and sweet, innocent fear he felt. He felt as though Laurent had flayed him and was carefully looking over the muscle of his heart, assessing. And what was more, Damen would have carved it out of his chest and gladly handed it to him if he could have.

"Laurent," he said. There was more he wanted to say, but all of it gathered and stuck in his throat, which ached with emotion suddenly. What was happening to him? He didn't know and he hardly cared. There was only one thing in the world that he wanted now.

"Shh," Laurent said. "Just breathe, Damen." He kissed Damen's face then, tenderly beneath each of his eyes.

In the space of that moment, Damen did as Laurent told him and focused on his breathing, drawing in three long breaths. When he had done this, he found he could speak again, and the stirring heat between his legs was reaching a peak. His cock ached and leaked against his belly, and there was a new feeling there that he'd never felt before, a sense deep inside him that there was something missing, something more to be had, and he was hungry for it.

"Laurent," he said, his voice a little firmer now, "please, I'm ready. I need you."

Laurent's eyes went a little wide, his mouth, pink as it always was after kissing, was slack and for the first time not held strictly under control. But he nodded, and leaned back up and away so that he could kneel once more between Damen's legs.

He removed his fingers carefully, which was a strange, slick feeling that once more made Damen feel that sense of vulnerable almost-shame as his heart knocked frantically in his chest. Especially when he watched Laurent's throat move as he swallowed, clearly affected by the sight between Damen's legs. Instinctively, Damen's knees tried to draw closed at the feeling of cool air against the hot center of him, but Laurent stopped him with two strong hands on his thighs, holding him open.

For a long moment, he just looked at Damen, and Damen tried not to think about what he was seeing, what his stretched-out hole might look like after such a long interval of preparation, tried not to read too much into the way Laurent's attention made his cock twitch and leak.

"Lift your knees," Laurent said at last, prompting with those hands on Damen's thighs, until Damen's feet were flat on the bed.

Laurent stretched over him to take one of the unused pillows from the top of the camp mattress. He folded it in half and guided Damen to lift his hips so he could tuck it beneath them. Then he unlaced and discarded his pants. With this done, he slicked his cock, which was as hard as Damen had ever seen it and going dark with blood at the head, with more of the oil.

Damen held his breath as Laurent lined himself up, his hips flush with Damen's, the tip of him just brushing the slack center of Damen's body. Damen wondered whether Laurent would have more words for him now, and when it seemed that he didn't, he thought about teasing him for it. Except then Laurent would no doubt feel compelled to come up with something, and Damen wasn't sure he could take it if he did.

So instead, the moment of anticipation stretched out silently, and then it turned out Laurent did have something to say to him after all.

"Damianos," he said.

Damen's breath stuttered to hear his full name, and all that it meant, on Laurent's tongue, especially here, now.

"Tell me you want this," Laurent said. For the first time, there was a touch of vulnerability in his own voice.

"Laurent," he said, fighting against the constriction that had once more returned to his throat, "please fuck me. Please." The last word came out as a whisper, as Laurent finally began to drive forward at a slow but relentless pace.

Damen cried out again at the initial breach of Laurent's cock into his body. The pain was different even from the stretch of his fingers, somehow both sharp and aching all at once. A unique sensation that felt almost like the stitch he sometimes got in his side during training, except that it was concentrated there between his legs, and it was all tangled up in the pleasure which came from inside and from his cock. It was nearly all he could feel at first, the pain, despite the fact that Laurent paused after the head was inside, giving him a chance to adjust.

Brow furrowed and eyes closed tight, Damen nodded to tell Laurent to go on. The pain, in its way, was sort of exquisite, and he didn't hate the idea of delving deeper into it in order to see what lay on the other side.

Once more, Laurent accepted Damen's own assessment of himself, and he pushed deeper inside, stretching Damen even more around him, reforming Damen into something from which pleasure could be mined and hoarded. This image of himself set Damen's face aflame once more, but it did nothing to diminish the desire pooling lower in his body.

Finally, Laurent stopped pressing in, and Damen realized that he could feel Laurent's body tightly up against his own. He was seated all the way inside, and Damen felt full, the ache of it spreading from where it was concentrated around Laurent and out through his hips, his cock, up into his belly and down into his thighs. But he wanted Laurent to move, wanted to know what it would feel like for Laurent to take pleasure from him with abandon.

He opened his eyes to tell Laurent this, but the image of Laurent over him stopped the thoughts where they stood at the tip of his tongue.

Laurent's mouth was tightly shut, his brow furrowed, his chest heaving with the deep breaths he was clearly forcing himself to take. He looked almost as though he were the one in pain, but Damen had spent enough time around him by now to recognize a look of deep concentration. He held himself incredibly still, his hands resting on Damen's thighs. After a long, long moment where they both remained as still as possible, adjusting to these sensations which were so new to both of them, Laurent finally opened his eyes.

"Damen," he said, his voice finally coming in the same breathless way that Damen was used to hearing from him in bed. "You feel --" but he broke off with a shake of his head, as though he couldn't describe it, and Damen felt a burst of pride in his chest at the idea that he felt so good for Laurent that he had robbed him of speech altogether.

Finally, he swore in Veretian -- something that struck Damen as either archaic or filthy, colorful enough in any event that he didn't have the wherewithal to translate it at the moment -- and his hips stuttered just a little, as though he hadn't meant to move them at all and had merely lost control over himself for a split second.

" _Yes_ , Laurent," Damen hissed at the feeling of it. "Gods, fuck me, please." He wished he could be more eloquent for Laurent, but it was all he could do to grasp for the simplest words in his own language, and he could only hope that Laurent would at least be affected by his inability to call on his higher abilities.

At long last, Laurent began to move, fractionally at first, and then with a little more strength and speed behind it. Damen remembered suddenly that this was not only a new experience for him, but for Laurent too. Laurent, who had never fucked anyone at all. It was no wonder he was struggling to hold on, Damen thought with a sudden thrill of delight, for this to be the first time Laurent had ever felt anything like what he was experiencing now.

But one of the things Damen had always loved about Laurent was his iron will. His ability, like none Damen had seen before or since, to wrest himself into strict control. He called on that phenomenal power of will now, visibly bringing himself back from the edge with nothing but the thought and determination to do it.

"Damen," he said again, once he had managed to draw back slightly. He opened his eyes then, looking first at Damen's face, and then at his cock, which Damen knew was no longer quite so hard as it had been, and then at the place where they were joined between Damen's legs. Laurent drew in a deep breath, then tightened his grip on one of Damen's thighs, reaching out with the other one to take Damen's cock in his hand. "This is," he said, tipping forward slightly with a gasp. "Fuck, you feel --" but once more the sentence lost itself halfway through, even in Veretian, which he seemed to have switched back to fully now.

Laurent gave up trying to speak after that, instead focusing on the movement of his hips and the hand on Damen's cock, which was quickly coaxed back to full hardness. Once he started moving again, even slowly, Damen's body seemed to adjust more quickly. After a couple minutes, he began to see what Laurent had meant when he said that the pain was part of it. Before long, it faded until it was merely a consistent background sensation, adding layers to the waves of pleasure which rocked through Damen from the motion of Laurent's hips against his, the press of his cock deep inside, nudging at and pressing against the place inside him which Laurent had been prodding with his fingers earlier.

All of it -- the warm, deep sensation of Laurent moving inside him; the aching, burning stretch around the full width of him; the emotional vulnerability of it, building up in his chest -- combined to make one utterly particular experience, something Damen had never felt anything like before. All of it together made this what it was, and it was painful in a way, but it was hot and intense and enticing too. For the first time, Damen felt he had some real understanding of what it was that Laurent felt when they were together, the desperation that came over him, the way he gave himself up to Damen and to this feeling, over and over again.

Damen realized that Laurent had been right. He would remember this forever. For as long as they had each other, every time Damen was inside Laurent, every time he fucked him in their bed or in a tent or against a wall for the rest of their lives together, he would think of this, and he would know exactly what Laurent was feeling when Damen took him, and what it meant for him to allow it, to ask for it again and again.

Emotion was once more building up in Damen just as his orgasm was. He relished in Laurent's hands on him, holding him down to earth. Without them he thought he might fly out of his body entirely. He couldn't quite make sense of the way his pleasure seemed to come from inside out, coaxed by Laurent's cock into a flameless fire deep, deep inside of him. It was nothing like the kind of pleasure he was accustomed to feeling, and Laurent's hand on his cock was as much a comfort as it was its own source of pleasure.

He could feel his orgasm, strange as it was, fast approaching. He forced himself to keep his eyes open and on Laurent, so he could take in as much of him as possible for the time that this lasted. He looked beautiful, as he always did, but there was something new, something different, about him now. Damen had seen Laurent keen to do as he was bid, and he had seen Laurent when he was in a mood to take his own pleasure for himself. This Laurent was something else entirely. He seemed absolutely desperate not to lose himself, to hold on. On nearly every thrust, his hips stuttered despite his clear desire to keep them moving at a strict pace. His control over himself, rigid as ever, was nonetheless failing.

Suddenly Damen didn't care whether this lasted. He wanted nothing so much as to see Laurent lose himself in this, inside his body. But Laurent would never allow it without some encouragement, so Damen dragged the words up out of the depths of himself to speak.

"Laurent," he said. "Come on. I want," he paused to search for the right way to express exactly what he was feeling, "I want you to stop worrying about me. Just _take_."

Laurent's brow creased as though he wanted to argue, but it was like his body responded to Damen's words without input from his mind. Finally, his hips moved at their own pace, chasing down the pleasure he was finding in Damen's body with no evident care for Damen's pleasure at all, except for the hand which was still gripped tight around Damen's cock.

Like his speech earlier, it was as though once he lost control, he couldn't wrest it back. "Damen," he panted, his hips working hard now. He fell forward, Damen's name on his lips again and again, pressing his face to Damen's chest. Damen wrapped his arms around him, and he would have liked to stroke his sides, his back, but it was all he could do just to hold on.

The harder Laurent fucked him now, the better it felt, now that his body had adjusted, and he could feel himself moving closer and closer to the edge of orgasm, and he knew he was making absurd sounds, little gasps and cries depending on how much pressure he felt from Laurent's cock on any given stroke.

They clung tightly to each other until Laurent was swearing eloquently in Veretian, his hips working frantically, Damen's cock forgotten between the press of their bodies. Damen knew Laurent was coming not by a feeling of wetness inside him, which he couldn't feel at all, somewhat disappointingly, but instead by the way he choked out Damen's full name once more, his hips somehow pressing even more tightly against Damen's, his cock driving even more deeply inside.

"Fuck," Laurent said as soon as he was finished. He sat up and pulled back quickly. "I'm sorry," he said. "I wanted --"

But before Damen could reassure him that it was all right, that this was what he'd wanted, Laurent shook his head as though to clear it. Whatever self-loathing had tried to settle over him, he dislodged it, and with a look of determination on his face, he gently removed himself from Damen's ass and instead settled back on his knees between Damen's legs.

Almost as soon as he was gone, Damen felt a number of things at once. For one, the aching hunger between his legs made itself known anew, as his cock strained and wept. For another, the sensation of cool air against the hot inside of him had him blushing fiercely in a matter of seconds, especially as Laurent once more held his legs open by the thighs so he could look at the place where he had just been -- watching it move, Damen realized with a flicker of that shameful, hot feeling, Laurent was watching his body try to close around nothing. And then finally, the entirely bizarre sensation of Laurent's come leaking from him. Damen gasped at the feel of it, something he could not begin to describe as pleasant, but which certainly sent a spark of sharply sweet embarrassment through him.

" _Fuck_ , Damen," Laurent said. Damen could relate to the sentiment. The color was high in Laurent's flushed face, and after he expressed this brief emotion, his bottom lip found its place firmly between his teeth. His eyes were still fixed between Damen's legs, and his attention there was shocking and exhilarating all at once. "Do you trust me?" he asked, finally dragging his eyes up to meet Damen's.

The answer was easy. The answer was _of course_. The answer was _I have never trusted another more_. But against the sudden surge of emotion in his chest, Damen could only nod.

Laurent took a moment to collect himself and shift his position slightly, bettering his angle for whatever he was about to do. And Damen truly didn't know what to expect, but somehow it still surprised him when he felt Laurent's fingers once more against his hole, messy and loose now. Messy and loose, but also sensitive and swollen.

Damen felt his breath coming faster as Laurent used his fingers to gather up the come that had leaked out of him, and then those fingers were there again, spreading it over him before pressing back into him. At first Damen though Laurent was just trying to push it all back inside him -- the thought of which sent a jolt of something unrecognizable through him, something which seemed to love the idea of Laurent staking such a physical claim on him in this way. But then, as the fingers pressed harder, pushed deeper, and Damen felt his body stretch, impossibly, even more around them than it had to accommodate Laurent's cock, he realized that Laurent was using his own come as lube to fuck Damen _more_ , again, with his fingers, though it felt like there were more of them this time.

This time, too, Damen knew what to expect from the ache of the stretch. It presented itself now not just as painful, but as an erotic sensation, as though his body had learned that this was something he could enjoy, even in this brief time. His eyes tipped up to the ceiling of the tent, his head pushed back against the pillows as his back arched toward the feeling. Still, Laurent kept pushing, pressing deeper, until Damen felt like he couldn't possibly stretch any wider, like his body was turning to liquid and being forced to part, like he was going to tear full in half.

The pain reached a peak only then, and as it did, Damen cried out Laurent's name. It felt almost like coming, a similar crescendo of sensation, even though Damen knew that it was different, as mixed up as everything was inside him.

Laurent paused to soothe him with his free hand back on his body, stroking him just above his cock, where the muscles of his stomach were tensing and releasing rhythmically as though he could reach his climax that way. It never even occurred to him to touch his own cock. He knew that Laurent would do so when he determined the time to be right, and Damen had no mind to contradict him, even as he grew increasingly desperate.

Every sense, every emotion, had climbed to higher and higher heights over the last several minutes, and now Damen thought he might die if something didn't give. Or at least weep openly, and what was worse, he was growing to care less and less if he actually did it. At least then he would have some catharsis.

As if in response to that vague, distant thought, he heard himself sob once, a pathetic, desperate cry. And then Laurent curled his fingers inside him. Involuntarily, Damen clenched down hard around him, which only served to press his fingers even more tightly to that place. Overstimulated as it was by now, even the pleasure of this pressure felt almost like pain. Damen's body tensed in convulsions from his chest and arms down all the way from hips to legs to toes, and still he didn't actually come.

He did cry then, he felt the tears on his face and couldn't even feel shame to go with them anymore. He would have begged in both of their languages if he could have found any words at all, but the only one left to him was Laurent's name, which he said over and over again, at times like a curse, at times like a prayer.

How Laurent was affected by this, he didn't know. He didn't dare open his eyes and subject himself to any further stimulation of any kind. Every muscle in his body was pulled taut, and he knew, in some distant part of his mind, that he would feel it as soreness all over the next day, but none of that mattered at all. Nothing mattered to him anymore except Laurent's fingers working inside him, and the aching, leaking cock that so desperately needed to be touched.

Maybe Laurent had noticed Damen's tears, or maybe he simply determined him to be ready now. Whatever the case, Laurent chose that moment to touch him, at last, but not with his other hand as Damen had expected. Instead, in one fluid motion, he wrapped his lips around Damen's cock and sank down to the hilt of it.

Damen cried out and came all at once, his body arching like a bow across the length of the mattress, his hands fisted tightly in the sheets. He couldn't even care about the fact that this movement must have pushed him deep into Laurent's throat, and Laurent himself didn't complain, merely held him through it, swallowing around the swollen head of his cock, and all the while keeping his fingers pressed tight inside him, so that Damen's orgasm seemed to go on and on and on, pulsing through and out of him at its own rhythm.

Every time it seemed he might be finished, his body would spasm again, until that hidden place was painful with overstimulation, and Laurent took every drop of it into his throat like it hardly inconvenienced him.

Finally, Damen's body calmed, trading the full-body convulsions for small twitches and jerks of his hips. But as one release ended, the emotional catharsis which had been riding the same wave finally reached its own tipping point. The tears flowed freely now, in the wake of Damen's climax. His chest shook with them, though he was silent after groaning his throat raw. He was aware of Laurent pulling his mouth off of his cock, and his fingers from his ass, only because of the sting of pain as he did so. Otherwise, he was consumed by this feeling in him, something so big and tender he couldn't have named it in either of their languages.

Distantly, he felt Laurent get up from the bed. He was gone for only a few seconds, but in that time Damen missed him desperately, and he was in no state to feel foolish for it. But he took the chance to gather himself together, so that by the time Laurent returned to the bed with a cup of water and a wet cloth, Damen had at least stopped shaking, even if the tears were still falling.

He had never felt anything quite like this before, and he didn't know what to make of it, so he simply allowed Laurent to take care of him, first running the clean cloth over his thighs and then down between his legs. He hissed and dragged in a shaky breath, but it felt better after, to be cleaned up. Laurent tossed the cloth on the ground and then crawled back up the bed to Damen. He coaxed Damen to sit up a little, pulling him back against Laurent's chest and then tipping the cup of water against his lip for him to drink.

They sat there quietly for a few minutes as Damen calmed down and Laurent just held onto him, occasionally touching light kisses to his head or the side of his face. Laurent didn't shush him or tell him to stop crying. He just held on and let Damen calm himself in his own time.

When at last the emotions which had spent the better part of the last hour racing through him and building had finally worn themselves out, Damen felt exhausted, but he felt sated and content too. He felt as though he had gone somewhere with Laurent that he had never been to before, somewhere special and private, just for them.

Laurent seemed to sense the shift in his mood as he reached a more usual equilibrium, because he bent his head to nip gently at his ear. "I hope you enjoyed that," he said, his voice low and earnest in a way Damen knew he hadn't meant for it to be. Before Damen could reply, before he could find a way to put the overall feeling of deep-set satisfaction into words, Laurent said, "Because it's definitely my turn next."

Despite the gravity of the moment, of the whole night, this startled Damen into full-belly laughter. He twisted in Laurent's arms to look up at him, knowing there was a cheeky grin on his face to match the one on Laurent's. "Don't you think you've had enough turns to last a while?" he said.

Laurent made an exaggerated thinking face and then quirked an eyebrow. "Well," he said, as the façade broke and he laughed, "I suppose if you're offering."

**Author's Note:**

> Thank you so much for reading! I've had the idea for a few months that I would love to write the scene where Damen bottoms for the first time, and then for whatever reason, I woke up with it pretty much all figured out this morning. This has been a labor of love for me over the course the day. Why is all my porn almost 10k words?? I have no idea. Why do I always feel the need to write it all in one day? Even less idea. Maybe it's all for that instant gratification baby. Whatever it is, I appreciate you sharing in my madness lol.
> 
> If you enjoyed and feel like leaving a comment, I would super appreciate it!! It helps with that whole gratification thing. I'm especially curious what you think of the characters in this. I didn't go into it thinking Damen would get so emotional, but as I was writing, it just felt right for him, the sweet bean.
> 
> I hope you're all hanging in there, despite everything. This fandom and this story continue to help me through it all, so I hope this helps to give back a bit. <3


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